Hedda Review: Ibsen Served Ice Cold

Henrik Ibsen wrote Hedda Gabler in 1891, and theater companies have been grappling with his manipulative protagonist ever since. She’s been interpreted as a feminist icon, a villain, a victim of circumstance, and everything in between. Directors love putting their own spin on the material—different eras, different settings, different ways of unpacking what makes Hedda tick. I’ve seen countless productions over the years, but I’ve never seen one take so many risks that actually pay off the way Nia DaCosta‘s Hedda does.  Watching the world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2025, there was an electricity in the audience, and it wasn’t just the sparks created by its leading lady.

Transposing the story to 1950s England and gender-swapping the doomed intellectual Eilert Lövborg into a woman named Eileen, DaCosta (Candyman) strips away subtext and forces emotions to the surface. The result is challenging, visually ravishing, and powered by a performance that should be dominating awards conversations but somehow isn’t.

Tessa Thompson (Creed) plays Hedda Gabler Tesman, recently married to the debt-ridden academic George (Tom Bateman, Death on the Nile) and hosting a lavish party at their estate to help secure him a professorship. Among the guests is Dr. Eileen Lovborg (Nina Hoss, Tár), George’s rival for the position—and Hedda’s former lover. From the moment Eileen arrives, the evening becomes a carefully orchestrated catastrophe. Hedda still harbors feelings for Eileen, but Eileen has moved on with Thea Clifton (Imogen Poots, Vivarium), an aspiring writer who left her husband to be with her. Over the course of one devastating night, Hedda systematically sabotages everyone around her, and DaCosta makes us watch every excruciating move.

Thompson reunites with DaCosta after Little Woods and proves herself a force in the title role, commanding attention whenever she’s scheming or seething. Thompson is an actress who has demonstrated over and over she is fully capable of great depth, focus, and intent, and that works brilliantly for this character both as Ibsen wrote it and now as DaCosta has envisioned it. Nicholas Pinnock (Black Dog) brings menace to Judge Brack, a man who sees everything and weaponizes it, while Bateman and Poots fill out the ensemble with precision.

But let me be direct: this film belongs to Hoss. Her Eileen is bold, brilliant, ahead of her time, and utterly unprepared for what Hedda has planned. Watching her character suffer humiliation after humiliation—a devastating fall happening almost in slow motion while we sit helpless—is genuinely painful. Hoss was exceptional in Tár a few years back and missed out on recognition there too. The fact that she’s barely part of the Supporting Actress conversation this awards season baffles me. Her work here is stunning, layered, unforgettable, and I’d put her name in the hat over several actresses, even frontrunners, currently being mentioned. 

On technical achievement alone, Hedda is breathtaking. Hildur Guðnadóttir‘s prickly score punctuates the forward momentum without overwhelming it. Sean Bobbitt‘s cinematography is handsomely constructed, treating the sprawling estate (shot at Flintham Hall in Nottinghamshire) as both a gilded cage and a chessboard for Hedda’s games. Production designer Cara Brower fills every frame with sumptuous textures, and costume designer Lindsay Pugh deserves guild recognition for her gorgeous period work. Editor Jacob Secher Schulsinger keeps the shifting timelines and locations clear, no small task given the film’s intricate structure.

For those familiar with Hedda Gabler, DaCosta’s interpretation will feel both familiar and thrillingly new. For newcomers, this is quite an introduction to a complicated woman on a consequential evening. Occasionally the style threatens to overwhelm the substance, but DaCosta mostly maintains the balance, serving up a beautiful buffet of manipulation served ice cold. Ibsen’s text has survived 130 years of reinterpretation. DaCosta proves there’s still something vital left to discover.